The Implication in the Illogical
by Covalent Bond
Summary: "Why wouldn't he fight this? He's a fighter." Spoilers for The Big in the Philippines.


**Author's Note:** To make a long story shorter, I avoid Twitter on Fridays when a new episode of Bones is airing because I'm West Coast (North America) and most of my Twitter pals are East Coast (North America), which means Twitter poses a risk of mega spoilers for Bones episodes before I get to watch them. Once it's aired I go back online and scroll through older tweets to see what I missed (all the fun).

While eavesdropping, I caught part of a conversation between Dharmamonkey and Threesquares where a FF challenge was mentioned: write a story with the title "The Implication in the (Adjective)" and we fill in the adjective of our choice. Kind of like a FF title Mad Lib, I guess, except that I apparently misunderstood a key point until after this was written. Oh well, this is why listening at doors is a bad idea. :P

So ... this is a 'missing scene from The Big in the Philippines.

~Q~

* * *

**The Implication in the Illogical**

* * *

"He's not going to fight."

Temperance Brennan turned away from the sink at her husband's words, at the confusion in his voice. She didn't have to ask who he meant. It was Wendell Bray, her intern who was nearing the end of his doctoral studies and had become quite adept at forensic anthropology under her tutelage.

"Why wouldn't he fight this? He's a fighter."

And she could hear it, the disbelief. What she felt, however, was an immediate and quite painful clench in her chest. She drew in a sharp breath, the knife she was using falling still as she rested her hand on a partially dissected onion. "You talked to Wendell today?"

Coming into the kitchen, Booth pressed a kiss to her temple then shut off the water that she'd left running because of what he'd said. Because of what it meant. "He came by my office after his appointment with the oncologist. He said he'd been walking around, thinking. That he didn't want to go through all that chemo only to go down sick and miss out on the rest of his life like his old man."

"That's ... logical," she nodded, knowing it wasn't onion fumes bringing tears to her eyes.

"No, that is _not_ logical," Booth insisted. "I mean, you said if we catch the tumor early then the odds of surviving are pretty good, 75%. Right? So why wouldn't he fight this?"

"Because, given his options, he's made a rational choice." Her voice shook a little, the stinging tears manifesting with still other physical symptoms (nose burning, hand tremors, a clogged throat) that betrayed her precarious control. All were signs of an intense emotional response, signs that she saw emerging in her spouse as well.

"No Bones, this isn't rational. He's got his whole life ahead of him!" Booth slammed a fist onto the polished granite counter, his jaw clenched in helpless frustration, his brow crumpled in a rather desperate bid to forestall crying. "Can't you talk to him?"

"I ... I will talk to him. But I can't tell him what to do. He's an adult and he's highly competent. He's one of my brightest interns so he knows ... he knows what he's doing." And then she was the one crying.

Gathering her into his arms, Booth tried to reassure her. "Look, we'll talk some sense into him, all right?"

"He is not lacking in good sense, Booth. His decision is sensible."

Tilting his face up to the ceiling, as if to contain his own tears so he could help her with hers, Booth shook his head. "How is it sensible to give up when the odds are so much in his favor?"

Her husband was an optimist and a fighter, a man who saw the value in life. Of course he would not understand the implications underpinning a rational decision not to pursue treatment. "Wendell is an excellent osteologist. He knows what I know: if the sarcoma has metastasized beyond the tumor site, then long-term survival is projected at only 10%."

"What?"

Pushing back to get a look at her distraught face, the reason for her tears and Wendell's illogical decision made the most sickening kind of sense. He closed his eyes, feeling grief flood him as the gambler weighed the odds. "Well, ten percent is better than zero."

"Deero!"

Both parents turned towards their daughter, happily waving a plastic numeral 0 that she'd plucked off the refrigerator. Brennan smiled through her tears and knelt down to take the little green number from the living proof that 10% was so much better than zero. "Ten percent is ten times better than zero."

~Q~

* * *

**Author's Note:** I tried to make this longer but I just couldn't. This is where it stops.

Normally I would research the dickens out of a medical issue; however, in this case I don't have the heart. As I was searching a question emerged. I found that the Bones writers either took a wee shortcut for the sake of drama, or they left out something significant because they don't want to scare us. I'm not sure which.

**Medical Note:** Ewing's Sarcoma is typically diagnosed in teens and young adults, more often in males than females. Once the tumor is discovered treatment must be fast and aggressive because the cancer may have already metastasized without symptoms. (This happens in about 1/3 of cases.) In other words, by the time the tumor is discovered, the patient may already be in an advanced stage of cancer. Five-year survival for localized disease is 70% to 80% when treated with chemotherapy. Those are actually very good odds and there's no logical reason for someone not to pursue treatment.

What I'm wondering about is if the writers left out Wendell getting news from the oncologist that the cancer had spread beyond his bones, and that's why he wanted to give up. If the cancer has already spread, long-term survival (greater than 5 years) is projected at only 10%-30%, depending on the sources I looked at.


End file.
